


On The Way Home

by vsilver



Category: Transformers: Prime
Genre: First Meeting, Gen, Mention of KOBD, Rescue, character examination
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-01
Updated: 2018-03-01
Packaged: 2019-03-25 12:17:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13834128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vsilver/pseuds/vsilver
Summary: During a fight for control of an energon mine Agent Fowler is separated from the team. As he tries to find his way back Breakdown crosses his path. The human's fate is in hands.





	On The Way Home

**Author's Note:**

> Agent Fowler impersonated a vehicon in which Breakdown had a civil conversation with. It made me think what if Breakdown wanted to meet that vehicon, but never heard from them since?

What the Autobot team hoped to be an abandoned mine with nothing but leftover equipment turned up to be a setup. 

In the palm of Bumblebee’s hands was the sole human that went along for the mission. The location was on closed off government property and unable to fly or fix the space bridge yet Agent Fowler had to personally disarm a lot of the alarms to drive into the area. It wasn’t a job he could leave for the rangers given the whole ‘Cybertronians are a secret’ and should remain so for the ninety-nine point nine percent of the population.

Arcee and Bumblebee were being chased down by some vehicon troops, about a group of ten. There’s a bunch of orders being yelled out and metal screeching with the very real blasts of white heat landing near enough to burn the agent’s suit. Fowler wishes the tunnels weren’t so jagged and narrow, maybe then he could at least hide in one of the Autobots seats safely.

A lot is happening and it easily overwhelms one’s senses even for an experienced agent. A fight of giants is not something humanity has prepared for yet, at least as far as his bosses have led the man to believe. Fowler is really glad he managed to convince the kids off this investigation. He wonders how they can deal with the stresses of near-death encounters with building with their alien friends at such a young age.

Optimus’ distressed voice is heard on the walkie talkie strapped on his belt asking for the trio’s status. The Autobot leader doesn’t wait as he’s updating them on the numbers, about fifteen vehicons on their end along with a familiar duo of Megatron’s forces. Starscream hasn’t shown himself yet to gloat but Fowler figures he’s probably hiding somewhere outside where it isn’t so moist and claustrophobic.

To think this morning William Fowler’s biggest worry was trying to open a jar of strawberry jam for his very dry toast.

Arcee is performing an impressive display of acrobatics as she pounces on vehicon’s helms and slows their pursuers down. The man hugs Bumblebee’s digits, shrinking into his suit with every blast of firepower he hears.

Fowler isn’t the one running or doing strenuous exercises but even he is left breathless with the assault on his senses. He describes as best he can to Optimus what’s going on before tucking the walkie talkie back on his belt. 

Sweat from his brow is irritating his eyes, and though the protective layer of vests he wears for dangerous occasions is for personal safety he really wishes he weren’t wearing it right now. Bumblebee’s been beeping words of comfort, at least that’s what the agent wants to believe the yellow scout is saying.

“Watch out!” shrieks Arcee. There’s holes in the ground and the yellow scout takes a hard tumble to the ground. The small bot tries to grab her friend from falling over but it’s too late. The mech cages his servos around the human tightly, wishing with all his might their human friend will endure any bruises that he will sustain.

“Bweeeee, _breeeeeww_!”

The alarmed cries of Bumblebee are high pitched and quick in succession as he apologises to Arcee. There’s a fair distance between them and the furious vehicons, so the femme is thankful they have that going for them. She quickly pulls him to his pedes to continue their retreat. That’s when Arcee notices the part of the mine they’re in. Shards of unharvested energon poked out from the cave’s walls.

Energon that is raw unstable power.

The vehicons stopped and aim their blasters at the trio.

Before Fowler could collect his bearings from the painful tumble and finish coughing out dirt his vision goes white.

Optimus’s pleas for an update from them is the last thing the agent hears before being knocked out by an explosive blast.

…

… …

It’s dark.

The hallway is spinning.

William Fowler’s sore eyes finally open back up. He feels sick.

The agent’s shoulders are flaring up with pain and his left leg won’t move. His rollex is cracked, track of time lost. Just peachy.

Tired but finally having a moment’s peace he takes in his surroundings. Well he’s still in the caves, the wet smell of iron, dirt and heavy smoke stinking up the humid air. The man groans, rubbing at the headache that’s blaring behind his scratched forehead. 

Sitting up he realizes there’s rubble and light fixtures. This part of the mines is lined up with lights and tracks too large for human sized mine carts. 

His only company is a broken walkie talkie and vehicons on the ground.

At first glance he’s alarmed and slams his back against a wall. They aren’t moving. The explosive encounter must’ve knocked them all out. It’s not the entire troop, the agent only counts half the number. 

There's also zero Autobots. No allies. Panic rises through Fowler. 

Tiny rocks tremble around him.

That’s when he feels the footsteps.

Great.

The day’s just getting worse, and he more than suspects it’ll be a Decepticon. If this is the end… Fowler hopes it’s anybody but Starscream and his nasty electric prodding habit. 

The silhouette is massive compared to Arcee or even Bumblebee. One yellow optic shines from the darkness. As impending doom walks closer the soft blue light of the mine’s lighting highlights the large mech’s thick and long limbs. The agent knows who it is because Bulkhead has begrudgingly told one too many stories to paint a decent picture. War Breakdown, the heavy duty mech and the brute strength for Megatron’s side. Also apparently rumbles too loud in his sleep.

Well, it’s better than Starscream.

Fowler’s first instinct is to hide. With a broken leg he can’t get far and though with just one optic he’s damn sure Breakdown can spot a defenseless human trying moving meters away in bad lighting.

Nearby lays one of the vehicons. There’s no other hiding spot he can pull himself behind.

Somewhere in Fowler’s mind he finds the needs to whisper a small sorry. They’re gonna be his shield.

Pushing himself up he scoots backwards against the knocked out vehicon. Their limbs are heavy so the best Fowler could do was lie against an arm the size of his entire body. Boy he really hopes this vehicon doesn’t wake up anytime soon then he’d be at their mercy.

The Decepticon is walking from the direction Arcee and them were trying to run off in. Fowler concludes that Breakdown might be the reason why they aren’t here with him now.

The agent holds his breath as the area is filled with a foreboding presence. Fowler watches as Breakdown peers around the crumbling tunnel. He’s surveying the damage, Fowler notes. Probably to report to Starscream later. 

The blue bot is alone. It’s kind of strange, the blue mech usually walks in a pair of two. Knock Out must be stuck elsewhere.

It’s a detail Fowler is kind of surprised he’s noticed. No time to wonder though, his thoughts racing to the possibility he’ll be discovered and captured.

He really wished he had a better mental profile on the Decepticon besides bitter snippets and comments Bulkhead’s let slip out to the team whenever the mech was feeling stressed or upset. All agent Fowler has is a bias account on Breakdown’s personality and the likelihood some sympathy can be thrown his way.

The tired man’s heart beats faster the closer the mech gets. He feels it in his ears. It’s like impatiently waiting for the end. 

“I got five down here.”

The Decepticon is painstakingly slow with his inspection, betraying his loud and boisterous nature while in battle. There’s a deep scowl on his orange face and while the agent isn’t an expert of Cybertronian body language the mech looks uncomfortable.

Huh. Fowler can’t help but think the bot must really hate this part of the job. He can relate.

Breakdown pauses to get down on one knee to look at a vehicon. 

Fowler feels his heart beat impatiently thinking what kind of cruel act is he about to be the witness to?

A large servo reaches to tilt vehicon’s face with one thumb. Compared to the willowy vehicon, Breakdown’s strength is obvious in every part of his frame. The mech knows it to and is very precise with his movements, not that any bot other than Knock Out’s ever noticed. But Agent Fowler is picking up on that now too.

Bulkhead’s rival might be as intimidating in battle as he, but he’s careful in his movements off the field unlike the green mech. 

A yellow optic glistened with warmth as he checked his comrade over.

The agent sees how the large mech tucks his limbs in as he moves, how he meekly touches the vehicon and almost afraid of breathing if Cybertronians were capable of that.

Breakdown’s frame relaxes as he’s finished checking the vehicon’s vitals. He’s relieved to learn the smaller bot is alive, just blacked out.

The vehicon’s helm is fixed to a more natural position. Long, blue arms rearrange the smaller bot’s frame into a more comfortable rest. 

Huh? Agent Fowler is taken aback.

Breakdown continues to reposition the vehicons one by one, all the time in the world. 

Fowler watches dumbfounded. He never thought their metal bodies could feel discomfort from lying in weird angles. Sore joints confirmed a universal pain.

“At least none of you will have to hear Starscream,” Breakdown gave a lopsided smile to no one in particular. The voice is very familiar and something Fowler knows he’s heard up close before. The only Deception that the agent is personally acquainted with is Starscream and man is his voice a sore memory. He agreed with the bot too, he wouldn’t want to hear the second in command yelling either. 

Breakdown’s approaching Fowler and the vehicon he’s taken refuge behind.

It’s inevitable. They’re next for inspection.

Think, Fowler.

Meanwhile Breakdown wished at least one of the vehicons in his route were awake to tell what transpired here, he needed to report back to a waiting seeker. Maybe he should’ve made the two Autobots he chased out talk more.

It’s been difficult getting used to his one optic, but Breakdown was very adamant on not replacing the one he’d lost. He’d been indifferent about humans before, not very much caring for squishies, that is until the encounter with MECH. 

He was very suspicious of how Bulkhead managed to track him down in MECH’s lab or Starscream for that matter. Maybe Knock Out was right and the seeker had planted GPS chips on them when they weren’t looking.

That’s a very unnerving thought, but so was Bulkhead setting him up to get caught by MECH in the first place.

Just the memory of Silas’ voice enraged Breakdown. But he had more pressing things to think about.

Earlier that day Knock Out wasn’t in the happiest of moods when the blue mech received the patch for his missing optic. Though his conjux for many centuries, Breakdown knew his reasons for turning down a replacement optic were illogical. He’ll feel worthy of a replacement the day he can repay Starscream for the rescue, well, the rescue he hijacked from his ex.

Just as he was getting lost in thought movement grabbed his attention. The next vehicon to look over was moving slightly, as if trying to wriggle. 

“Hey, you’re awake!” His steps were quick as he knelt down to inspect the hurt vehicon.

Behind the purple frame Agent Fowler was sweating bullets. He’s managed to fool the Decepticon before so he hoped he had just as much luck this time around.

“Y-yeah!” the man answered nervously as he came up with a deep voice. “They almost got me back there, damn Autobots.”

“Recovery team will be here soon. Autobrats got run out.”

Fowler couldn’t believe it. He was fooling a mech that could easily break him like a twig. It made him confident. A little too confident.

“Yeah, gotcha boss!” Fowler yawned. “I’ll just chill here in the dirt until they get here.”

Breakdown rubbed the back of his head.

“Ya hurt that bad?”

“Yes. Well, I’ll let the doctors know.”

That was a red flag to Breakdown.

A bit suspicious, the mech leaned closer. Fowler felt fear creep up his back as he tried moving an arm.

“We only have one doctor,” Breakdown practically breathed over him matter-o-factly.

“Oh. Right,” uttered Fowler.

“What’s his conjux’ name?” 

Damn.

The agent didn’t even know what the word meant, only that it’s something tossed around the Autobot base on occasion followed by laughter and flustered gibberish. So Fowler figured it was some pun among Cybertronians.

“Uh...sir, that’d be disrespectful! Uh… are  _ you  _ injured?” Fowler wish he could kick himself. He’d gotten nervous and fumbled over his own words same as last time. 

Breakdown’s processor was trying to remind him of something. This should be familiar. “What?”

“H-how are  _ you _ , boss?”

It hit Breakdown like a ton of bricks. A little too excited his hands shot up. “You’re the one from Space Bridge Control!”

Oh, right. Now Fowler knew where he recognized the voice. Breakdown had commended him for his good work. 

His next words were crucial and to be picked with the utmost care.

“Sure am buddy!” Fowler would facepalm if he could. These could very well be his last words.

“I’ve been looking for you, where have you been?”

A servo grabbed the vehicon’s shoulder to sit him up. Breakdown knew he recognized that voice somewhere!

But as he moved the vehicon’s frame what rolled out from underneath was a human.

The uncomfortable silence that befell the two was so thick and terrifyingly quiet. The smile on his orange face dropped.

“A HUMAN!” the mech barked. “What are you doing here?!”

“Hi boss,” Fowler meekly waved and kissed his life goodbye.

The poor man flinched as Breakdown moved the passed out vehicon to tower over the injured agent. His footsteps shook the ground as he caged him in, not that he could run anyway..

Agent Fowler was sweating, an arm dragging across his face as he did his best to swallow his nerves. He really hoped Breakdown did not live to be up to Bulkhead’s stories. And he  _ really  _ hoped the mech was not of the sadistic type.

A servo grabbed the human, Fowler struggled as pain flared up from his broken leg and whatever else was hurt during the explosion that led up to all this. There were no Autobots in sight, no gadgets or other vehicons to hide behind. No unexpected yet perfectly convenient rescues. 

Just a weakened man against a very angry bot.

“You’ve got guts trying to impersonate one of us twice,” spat the mech. No wonder Arcee and the scout fought so hard to come back to this area, they had left him behind.

“Well, fella’s gotta do what it takes to live,” grunted Fowler against the grip around him. It wasn’t tight, but not loose either. Unlike Bumblebee’s soft and smaller grip, the man could trace dents in the fingers of this mech whose hands were large enough to crush another Cybertronian’s helm.

“Do you have no shame?”

Good, Fowler thought. Breakdown’s a talker. If he chat him up long enough he could figure his way out of this somehow. “Hey now don’t put me together with the likes of criminals. My department’s a step up from MECH.”

If Agent Fowler knew just how sensitive of a topic that was he would have thought twice to have brought it up.

The flash of rage that crossed Breakdown’s face was immediate. He let out a vicious scream as his free hand swiftly turned to a hammer and  smashed against the wall. Even with that rage though, the blue bot does not tighten his hold on Fowler.

“I knew it,” Breakdown gritted through his denta. “I  _ had  _ been set up to be on MECHs operating table. You helped out, didn’t you? To think I thought Bulkhead was capable of compassion like he used to be. I’m so stupid!”

“Woah, slow down now-”

“You think this is all funny to fool me twice don’t you?” Breakdown looked away shame rising to his cheeks. On one hand he felt embarrassed how much effort he put to not show how upset the MECH incident made him and on the other that a human had riled him up.

“Well, what’s it matter what I think?” Fowler crossed his arms. Now it was his turn to be annoyed. “Oh yeah… I’m  _ only  _ the  _ human  _ that told Optimus and his team it was MECH that took you!”

The grip on Fowler loosened. “What?”

“Silas has been a pain since he’s shown his ugly mug. I’ve been trying to track his operation down since my department first heard of them.” Life’s about to be cut short, Fowler figured why not let the walls of formality down and, well, just talk. The place was still teeming with Decepticons, he’d need a miracle to be spared by the time he’s passed along to Starscream and Megatron. At least die clearing this misunderstanding. 

No schemes, no plans, no arguing.

Just chat. 

Breakdown proved to be a conversationalist before and one that gave a damn about the troops Megatron regarded as cannon fodder. Maybe there’s still more surprised to be had. 

Without warning Breakdown brought the agent closer to his face. In a small voice the bot spoke. 

“Are you… the reason Bulkhead found me in that operating table?”

Fowler dusted some dirt off his hair before giving a small shrug to the mech. 

“Well, yeah.” he confessed. “It’s my job.”

A few moments passed where the agent just watched the flurry of emotions that crossed the large orange face. He seemed to be making up his mind on something. Breakdown closed his optic, a quiet rumble of his engine was heard.

“Your job…,” Breakdown calmed down. He gestured with his helm at the agent. “What’s your name human?” 

“Uh… William Fowler.” The agent fixed his burnt tie, emphasizing how formal the occasion felt. He also tried adding a bit of humor. “I assume Cybertronians have no last name.”

“...One’s plenty.”

Fowler smiled nervously. He feels conflicted having had a civil moment with the enemy. 

A few more seconds passed before a second large hand reached for him. Fowler braced himself in Breakdown’s grip for a sickening impact of the gruesome noise of bones breaking. 

Instead there was running and a protective servo around his head.

The agent was jostled around in Breakdown’s hands, very rough unlike Bumblebee’s friendly grip. He felt more like a pest or a bug that was caught.

He wanted to ask what the hurry was but with all the running and noise Fowler knew the mech wouldn’t be able to hear him. His broken leg stung again, pain flaring up as the injury was swelling. His arms protected his head.

This is it, he thought. This was a one-way trip to Starscream waiting claws.

The sound of a distant boom caught his attention. But it wasn’t more fighting.

Rain fell on his cheek. That’s when Fowler allowed himself to open his eyes. Gray light cracked through Breakdown’s fingers. He felt the wind.

They were outside of the mines.

“This is far enough,” Breakdown huffed.

Thunder rumbled above them. Agent Fowler could not describe the relief to see the wilderness again. He never imagined he’d feel this happy to be in the middle of nowhere in a Decepticon’s hands.                                                                                                 

The mech headed for the trees nearby, his massive shoulders forcing their way against the branches and thick woodwork. Growing antsy Fowler swallowed hard. He dared to speak again.

“Where are we heading?”

“That’s up to you.”

A few more meters before Breakdown halted. The blue mech looked back at one of the many exits of the energon mine before nodding to himself. He’s sure Starscream and the others wouldn’t find the human in this spot.

Fowler flinched, arms raised protectively against his face as he was uncovered and set slowly on the ground.

Breakdown crouched down as he set the agent against a tree and some bushes. Pinching some bushes he pulled debris over the tiny human to camouflage him. Something about this feels correct, even if Breakdown’s processor is setting off warning flags. Why  _ was  _ he risking his tailpipe to spare a human that’s done nothing but given polite conversation and sort of led to his life being saved?

The mech’s own words echo from the past.

_ “I know how unforgiving it is down there. But your doing a good job. Keep up the work.” _

It’s respect that drove the blue bot to spare the human. Breakdown had not cared for his life back on that medical slab at the mercy of Silas, but some human sure did enough to help stop it.

Bulkhead saved him too, even offered to join the Autobots.

_ They’d  _ probably treat Knock Out and him with a lot more dignity...

Back in the present he’d felt the human shake the entire time in his grip since the retreat from the caves. No expert on squishies either but Breakdown’s almost positive this one is injured badly. He checks his hand to see it’s a bit stained by the human’s energon, or whatever it was they had in them.

He made a little grossed out face at that before wiping his servo on the dirt and returning his attention to the human. 

“What’s going on?” Fowler looked around, no sign of the terror he was expecting to be handed over to. He tried to sit as comfortable as he could, adjusting the position of his broken leg. His teeth hurt from all the clenching he’s done enduring the pain. “Decepticon, where-?”

“I have a name and it’s Breakdown.” The mech corrected while narrowing his optic, barring his denta. “William Fowler we are even.”

Fowler started dumbfounded. “...excuse me?”

“Is that a complaint?” huffed Breakdown. 

“No, it’s… well yes. You’re just going to leave me out here in the wild?”  The man gestures his arms wildly at his surroundings. 

Breakdown gritted his denta and forced a smile. “I’m letting you go  _ free  _ with your  _ life _ .”

“If I’ve learned a thing or two in life this will cost me in the long run. So I’d rather know now what you’re planning!”

“Stop talking!” Breakdown pointed irritably at Fowler’s face.

Fowler returned the leer at Breakdown, a large and very dangerous Cybertronian capable of snapping him like a twig. He just couldn’t help it, this whole situation was just weird and uncalled for. The universe was saving up what should have been an unfortunate end at the hands of robotic aliens and going to prolong it to something even more unprecedented he just knew it!

“Stay put and the others won’t find you.”

“Oh sure, maybe some vultures and Big Foot himself will and finish me off then. Just peachy.”

It took the agent everything in his will power not to laugh at the face of utter confusion Breakdown was giving him.

“I don’t understand half of what you said there. You played a part into saving my life and I’m paying forward the favor.”

“It was an accident! It’s not like I  _ meant  _ to.” Fowler pouted. What will Optimus and the team say when he tells them all this? “I guess I should save Decepticon’s lives more often.”

Breakdown got back up. He had to get back and help with retrieving the vehicons before anyone finds he’s missing. Knock Out’s been trying to contact him through their comm link through this little detour. But he couldn’t afford to spare a second to his conjux. At the moment he was learning how  _ not  _ completely detestable humans were.

“The others aren’t exactly as honorable, at least to squishies.”

Breakdown turned away to leave but Fowler had him stop in his tracks.

“Well… thanks Breakdown. Yikes, that tasted weird to say.”

For the first time a sincere smile crossed the blue mech’s face as he rolled his optic. A moment of peace passed through them. It's odd but not unwelcomed. The mech grunts before pulling away. Breakdown makes haste and rushes back towards the cave’s mouth, finally turning on his comm link to listen to Knock Out berate him with worry. 

Agent Fowler reached into his pocket for a flip phone. At first he hesitated, but found there was nothing wrong with a little picture. He snapped one of Breakdown as the mech disappeared into the dark mines. 

Relief washed over him to see he had some bars, the reception too weak for a call so sent a text of his approximate location to the kids to alert the others. It was working at a snail's pace. Most of him is covered with broken branches and large mounds of leaves Breakdown had dropped on him. Fowler's still not sure how all of this was warranted when he'd only told the Autobots that MECH were responsible for the missing Decepticon those few weeks ago. Breakdown had a funny way to show appreciation.

They told him to wait a bit until the Decepticons cleared out. Arcee was lingering in the area, having waited for an opportunity to go back inside to retreat their human friend. The text asked him to describe any injuries he head, no doubt so June Darby could make the future trip to the hospital move more swimmingly.

Dark clouds rolled in as the storm approached. Fowler slumped against the tree trunk, slipping off his coat to pull over his head. 

He couldn’t believe he lived after arguing with the Cybertronian. It's not the first time and probably not the last either. He stared at the blurry picture on his phone.

  
  
  
  


A whole day later and finally back home from the hospital, Fowler thanked the cab driver that helped the agent with some bags. Keys were tossed on a table a little further up the hallway leading to the living room. 

One shoe was kicked off, a remote snatched up and flipped on a television. He hadn’t eaten since the hospital prohibit it before the surgery to amend his broken bone. A midnight breakfast sounded good right about now.

A bit wet from the rain pouring outside he shook his arms and pulled down his hood. He unzipped a gray sweater off and slipping into a bunny slipper, the tired man headed for his cozy kitchen decorated with an overwhelming amount of fruit decor. 

The crutches were uncomfortable and a bit difficult to navigate around in so he set them against a counter. Ingredients for some waffle batter and eggs were set out. Some movie about a zombie invasion played aloud as he poured vegetable oil into a waiting frying pan.

Explaining to his superior about what happened was easy because Fowler could be as vague as he wanted to be. It was Optimus Prime and his team that he was worried about giving the details as to how he ended up outside.

His injury left little room for questions as he was taken directly to a hospital by Arcee and Bumblebee. They’d speak to him in a few days after he’s had rest to go over what went haywire during the mission.

Fowler bit his lip as he watched the oil sizzle. Does he tell them everything Breakdown had said?

Even with the heater on full blast his skin still crawls, uneasy about the familiar nature they’d spoken to each other. 

As he dug behind to look for a carton of orange juice he hoped had enough for a full glass, there was a noise outside. Fowler bumped his head in the fridge before coming back out to look around for the source of it.

It was a heavy thump, and loud enough for him to hear it past the fearful screams of the protagonists from the TV running away.

An irritated sigh left his mouth as he rubbed his tired face, he really didn’t need anything exciting happening right now. Mumbling some choice words he got back on his crutches and headed for the garage. 

Somedays when Fowler wasn’t careful he accidently bumped the garbage bin against the garage door, and whatever was making the repeated knocking sound was akin to the same noise.

He opened the door leading into his garage. His car sat there, untouched for days along with gardening supplies and lawn appliances sitting against the walls. The man knew better than to turn on the lights. Maybe it’s a hungry possum or something. Fowler really hoped it was a possum.

He walked towards the garage door.

“Maybe I should’ve signed up for the video security system feature after all…”

His stomach rumbled and he just wanted to get back to his awaiting waffles and sunny side up eggs. 

The knocking was light but persisted. Pulling his cellphone out he hovered it by one of the little narrow windows on the door. Two distinctive beeps and he’s got himself pictures of his unwelcome guest. He will call the police to investigate seeing as he’s a bit vulnerable at the moment. Even if it was an unruly possum he wasn’t sure he could scare one away. 

He’s squinting to make heads of the picture so he could give a description when he calls.

“What could be up this late at night?”

From the kitchen the suspenseful music of the movie’s climax was playing.

A voice came up from the other side of the metal door. 

It’s pouring hard outside so Fowler couldn’t hear them clearly. Something about opening up.

The agent rolled his eyes, as if.

While he’s checking his flip phone the tired man makes the mistake of turning his back to the door. A yellow optic peers through the window.

Breakdown is resting on his knee lightly tapping at what he was positive was the agent’s address according to Soundwave’s data. The mech was sure the human hadn’t heard him with the storm. He turns to look at Knock Out whose parked on the curve with his lights off before clearing his voice.

“William Fowler I’ve been thinking about the Autobot thing. Well, my Conjux and I actually.”

Agent Fowler’s job just got a hell of a lot more complicated.

**Author's Note:**

> Just want to prevent Breakdown's deaths ;u;


End file.
